Black Blood

-B2- Chapter 32

Celeste

I put the joint to my lips before the warm straw-like taste slides into my mouth. It's the last drag I take before handing the half-smoked thing to Micca.

Micca was the only person I could think of to run to after the fight I had with Novak. He was quite surprised when I stood in front of his door in the rain.

'You're the one who locks yourself in a room all day, doesn't eat, and ignores me for weeks as if I don't exist,' Novak shouted through the narrow hallway. Aggression has taken over my body so much that I can barely control it.

'What did you expect when you forced me to work through this terrible list? That it would stay the way it was before. I'm not that neat raped girl from the past,' I shout back as I feel Alisha's eyes on us from the kitchen. Novak throws his arms in the air and looks up to the sky.

'You're unbearable, for months. You knew damn well what you were getting into. You can thank me. Without me, you'd be dead now.' That was the last remark I needed before turning to Alisha.

'Yeah, run away again, as always,' Novak calls out as I wrap the coat around my body again. I turn to Novak one last time and look into the red eyes.

'I'd rather be dead.'

I still don't know if it was the truth or something I knew would hurt Novak. Either way, I said it out of revenge. He hasn't tried to understand what I do, how I feel for months. He didn't ask where I was, what I had done. All I remember is him cuddling with Alisha in the garden.

It's not that cuddle that made me angry. It's long been clear to me that the two are nothing more than friends, despite their past. It's the lack of understanding on his part. He has his ways of dealing with it, I have others, and he doesn't seem to want to understand.

'So, how did you go from princess to most wanted person?' Micca asks as he slowly exhales the smoke. I lean my head against the fabric couch and look at the wooden ceiling. I smile as I remember the castle years.

'My mother died,' is the only answer I have. It's also the only answer that sums everything up. It was the thing that set everything in motion.

'Of what?' he asks as he hands me the herb-filled joint that I couldn't name. I don't care what's in it exactly. It numbs my thoughts and body, that's enough.

'Riosis, or at least that's what people think,' I simply reply. The better I get to know the other side of my father, the less sure I am that my mother died of riosis.

'What do you think?' Micca slides his legs further up on the couch, his feet touching my thigh. He lies horizontally on the couch with his back against a pillow on the armrest.

'I don't know. I don't rule out that my father murdered her, but I don't remember enough to say for sure.' I hand him the joint back before he runs a hand through his white-blond hair.

'Why would your father kill your mother?' I am too far gone from the world to think long about my answer, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.

'She was loved by many. She was the only one who kept my father in check. She never allowed what he is doing now. She united the people to revolt against my father, despite her love for him. She won. My father knew that, so if he killed her, it was because he knew he could never win against her.'

'Where does your father's hatred for other races come from?' he asks further. My brain is functioning less and less as it becomes more numb. The world spins before my eyes, my arms tingling.

'He never told me, so I'm not sure. Some say he was bullied by elves in the past, others say he wants revenge for the wars they could never win. There are stories that claim he had a relationship with a werewolf who left him for her mate, but the most well-known story is that he craves power.' Micca begins to laugh before pushing the smoked joint into the ashtray.

'Which do you believe?'

'The last one,' I answer, knowing that it is most likely not true. It's easier to think that my father is a tyrant without reason. It's easier to think he has no good reason.

'Do you have a daughter?' I ask, referring to the portrait of Joyce above the fireplace. I see Micca freeze in my peripheral vision.

'We're not going to talk about it,' is his only answer. I'm not able to have a long discussion, so I don't. I just nod before laying my head back on the armrest. As soon as my eyes close, the world spins faster around me, my hands tingling. I have to open them again to prevent the nausea.

'What did you mean that this is the beginning of those black veins?' I ask without looking away from the ceiling. Micca sits up straighter against the armrest before pulling his legs in.

'It's not on your spine yet. Once it reaches your spine, you can't handle the pain with just smoking and drinking. Your spine is where your lifelines converge. The moment the fire hits there, you can't do without viante.' I turn my head in surprise.

'Viante is poison,' is the only response I can come up with. I already knew it was going to be worse than it is. My mother explained enough about my lifelines for me to know where the most sensitive part of my body is.

'Correct. Viante is very lethal in high concentrations. In smaller doses, it's a heavy sedative that temporarily shuts down your nerves.' Viante, an extract of deadly nightshade that completely disables your nerves at a small dose. At a higher dose, it not only stops your nerves but also your veins. Some use it as poison, others as a sedative, but everyone who uses it dies. The blue liquid you inject into your arm is highly addictive.

'I know, but I also know that it does more harm than good. An old friend once told me about it.' It reminds me of Nelly. I don't often try to think about the older woman, not wanting to know what happened to her. Still, the knowledge she imparted to me often comes in handy.

'That's also correct. It's highly addictive and eventually breaks down your nerves. However, the moment that fire hits your spine, you'll be begging for anything that relieves the pain.' I would like to deny that Micca is right, but I know that would be lying to myself. It's just a matter of time.